


Abyssal Betrothal

by Casandraelf



Category: Dark Souls (Video Games)
Genre: Anal Sex, M/M, Sequel, Size Difference, Souls Don't Work That Way, The Author Regrets Everything, Wet Dream
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-05-22
Updated: 2016-05-22
Packaged: 2018-06-09 21:59:54
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,832
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6925048
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Casandraelf/pseuds/Casandraelf
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Holding onto the Soul of Artorias ended up having some odd side effects on the Chosen Undead.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Abyssal Betrothal

Erik hid himself in the wooded ruins where the Moonlight Butterfly once dwelled, having found himself there after fleeing from the overly aggressive Forest Guardians. For some reason, he decided to run around in the tarry depths of Sen’s Fortress prior to pissing off the Guardians in the hopes of getting some Demon Titanite.  
Harvesting the Demon Titanite was easy enough, but slaughtering the mushroom people was definitely a bad idea. For whatever reason, he figured they might drop something of value. They didn’t, and all he got was several angry mushroom men and several Forest Guardians materializing to take him down. Once he passed through the door the Crest of Artorias opened, the mushrooms stopped trying to kill him. The Forest Guardians kept following him though, before they were ultimately chased off by the massive stone warriors, that is.

Artorias.

That name brought back bittersweet memories for him. He recalled how the towering knight managed to charge through the Abyss just to help him against Manus, despite having his dominant arm broken and being ridden with Abyssal corruption, only to be cruelly swiped aside, his already weakened body damaged beyond repair. He recalled how heartbroken the woman at his grave was when he told her that his soul could not be given to her for fear of corrupting her with the Abyss, but most of all he remembered how he had eased the Abysswalker’s pain when the Abyss had distorted his body, weakening his will to fight it. That last memory brought an unwanted tingle into his loins, for although he had used such carnal means to ease his pain, he didn’t want to remember him for that. Besides, this was hardly the time or place for such thoughts. He was exhausted.

Leaning against the wall, Erik tried to get himself comfortable for a short nap. Since he had slaughtered everything nearby, he didn’t have anything to worry about, right? He pressed himself into the corner as much as possible before shutting his eyes. Perhaps if he didn’t move a whole lot, any further invaders would mistake him for an unmoving Hollow. Eventually, sleep finally took him, letting his Undead mind rest for a while.  
  
When he awoke, he was in a truly unusual place. It resembled the chamber he had seen Gwynevere in, although the light was very different, being more like midday than sunset, which brought to mind a very important question: when did he get to Anor Londo? Erik looked down at his clothes, surprised to find that he was clad in the worn garments that came with the Elite Knight armor he found in the Darkroot Garden, the armor near the large door. He was also on a large bed…or was it a fainting couch? Either way, it was gigantic, much too big for a human. As he looked around, he found that a giant mirror was on one of the walls, giving him the chance to see his face…or rather, his face as he remembered it, since his eyes were white rather than black.

That’s when he knew he had to have been dreaming.

“Your hair is quite lovely, Erik.”  
  
Instinct compelled him to reach for his sword…only to remember that it was currently with his armor. He wheeled around to see a tall, muscular man lying on his right side, his body covered with scars, black hair falling over his shoulders, his eyes a brilliant blue. Save for a sheet draped over his waist, he was completely naked. He reached out with his left hand, callused fingers running through the human’s thick ponytail. For reasons unknown, Erik found himself blushing. It was strange, an odd sense of familiarity filling him as the man, who was easily double his height, kept playing with his hair. Before he could respond, the man spoke again.

“You recognize me, right? Surely you remember my voice at the very least.”  
Erik thought for a few moments as he wracked his brain, familiar phrases entering his mind.

  
_“…Whoever thou art, stay away…”_  
_“…the spread of the Abyss…must be stopped…I surely cannot, for its power is far too much for me to bear…”_  
_“You…you wish for me to know you?”_  
_“I give you…my legacy…”_

  
“…Ar…Artorias?”  
  
The giant of a man nodded, a soft smile forming on his lips.  
  
“…This has got to be a dream…there is no way this is possible-eh?”  
  
He felt himself being turned around before receiving a gentle kiss on his forehead, the man’s arm draping over him.  
  
“If it is a dream, then I hope it is a good one for you, Erik.”  
  
“H-how do you know my name?”  
  
“It seems that, when you claimed my soul, it touched your soul. I suppose I could not bear to be apart from you. I know not how this happened, but I am not about to question this good fortune.”  
  
Erik blushed again, barely aware of the knight’s fingers freeing his hair from its ponytail, only recognizing it when he felt its weight shift. He didn’t move, only letting Artorias speak.  
  
“When we last met, it was in pain and dark. This time, I hope it is through pleasure and light that you will remember me.”  
  
He blushed even harder as a familiar tingle found its way into his loins. That tingle brought with it a strange awareness of being empty. Everything seemed to tingle at the Abysswalker’s words, something he chalked up to a phantom memory of their tryst in Oolacile. Even if it was a dream, it would give him some much needed relief from the horrors of Lordran.  
  
“The Abyss obscured my sight. I never saw what lay beneath your armor. Please, let me see what the dark denied me the first time.”  
  
Still blushing, he obeyed, undoing his belt before pulling off his tunic, then slipping off his trousers, his cheeks burning a brighter red than before when his lean yet tightly toned body came into view, the tingling in his groin growing stronger. Like Artorias, his skin was also littered with scars, but if the slight stirring beneath the sheet over the Abysswalker’s waist was any indication, it didn’t bother the larger knight in the slightest.  
  
The sound of fabric shifting filled Erik’s ears as Artorias adjusted his posture, the sheet falling away to reveal his hardening erection. At the sight of the Abysswalker’s knighthood being exposed, he instinctively shut his eyes. The human felt so small beneath the Abysswalker, almost like a child in the presence of an adult. Before he even had the chance to regret making such a comparison, he felt his hardening cock being engulfed in warmth and wetness, callused hands gently pressing down on his hips. Cautiously, he opened one eye, shame and arousal coloring his cheeks as he watched Artorias lick and suck his cock, immediately closing it again as he resumed blushing.  
  
“Gh! Ar-Artorias…you…you don’t have t-nnh!”  
  
He couldn’t even articulate his thoughts as he felt the knight suck him off, barely catching his breath when the Abysswalker momentarily withdrew to speak, a gentle smile on his lips after he noticed Erik had gotten hard thanks to his attentions.  
  
“I am merely returning the favor you granted me when we first met, Erik,” he said with a chuckle, his hand effortlessly wrapping around the eight inches of his much smaller companion’s member. He noticed the nervous blush Erik had as he tried to look away, sensing that perhaps part of it had to do with their difference in size. Artorias chuckled before responding.  
  
“Do not be so bashful, Erik. I have no complaints about what I see.” When he finished speaking, he resumed pleasuring the blushing human, causing him to cringe.  
  
“Ah! A-Artorias…I-I-nnh~!”  
  
Tensing up, Erik came, the warm wetness of the Abysswalker’s mouth enveloping him before slowly withdrawing. He could barely see movement in the knight’s throat as he swallowed, a smirk forming on the larger man’s lips before he pulled the brunette onto his lap with a kiss, his large erection pressing against Erik’s rear as they kissed. He soon lost himself in the kiss, wrapping his arms around the taller knight’s neck.  
  
“Would you like more?”  
“Y-yes, Artorias…I really do…”  
  
With a gentle smile, Artorias turned Erik around, pressing his smaller lover against his chest before reaching for a small bottle of oil, dripping some on his twitching cock.  
  
“Artorias…inside me…please…”  
  
Gripping Erik’s thighs, he lifted him onto it before slowly sliding him down, smirking when he heard the human cry out in pleasure, savoring the feeling of the tight, hot flesh constricting his cock, all the while making the boy cry out in pleasure.  
  
“Gh~! I missed this so much, Erik…”  
“A-Artorias~!”  
  
The Undead gripped the Abysswalker’s hands for some sort of support, gasping as he felt a pleasurable pain rip through his body as his long-since neglected hole stretched around the knight’s massive erection. After a few deep thrusts, he quickly adapted to the intrusion, blushing and groaning a little as Artorias continued to thrust into him.

  
“T-the mirror…look in the mirror,” Artorias managed to say before losing himself to the feeling of the young man’s body around him.

When Erik looked over at it, he saw exactly how the larger warrior was filling him, how his cock twitched and drooled as his prostate was constantly stimulated by the large knighthood inside him. What’s more, he could see the sheer difference in size between them. Before he even had a chance to say anything else, he found the back of his head pressed against the Abysswalker’s pecs as he shifted his grip on the smaller male, still slowly thrusting.  
  
“N-nhaa~! A-Arto-Artorias! I-I’m gonna-!”  
  
With a cry, the Undead Warrior came, his load splattering onto his lightly muscled frame as the knight followed suit, white-hot torrents of seed spraying into Erik before oozing out around his throbbing knighthood. However, just as he sank against Artorias to recover, the dream ended.  
  
As the Undead woke up, he slowly sat up, quickly realizing that something was…off. Pulling up his tunic and undoing his trousers, Erik became immediately aware of the embarrassing truth that he had experienced a very vivid lucid wet dream, as the crotch was stained with his seed. With a sigh, he decided to put up with it until he had the chance to clean himself off. After straightening himself up, he contemplated changing rings for some reason. However, as he took off the gauntlet on his ring hand, he noticed something truly odd: The Ring of Favor and Protection he had taken from Lautrec’s corpse was a glossy black rather than its normal bronze. It even exuded a slight warmth, making him smile a little. After putting his gauntlet back on, he got to his feet and left. Something told him that, the next time he closed his eyes to rest, he would see Artorias again.


End file.
